


'Tis the Season

by msgenevieve



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Tumblr Prompt, holiday fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-05
Updated: 2014-12-05
Packaged: 2018-02-28 05:36:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2720675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msgenevieve/pseuds/msgenevieve
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He does so hate to be predictable, but why is the rum gone?  (Cs and eggnog? Lol. Tis the season.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	'Tis the Season

~*~

 

“I do so hate to quote that wretched movie your lad insisted I watch a _second_ time last week, love, but why is the rum gone?”

Emma merely flicks him a serene glance as she dries her hands on the dish towel.  “I put it in the egg nog.”

He stares at her.  He’s all for celebrating traditions and exploring this wonderful new intimacy between them, but a man has his limits, and hearing that she’s tipped the last of his stash of best rum into a punch bowl filled with beaten eggs and milk might just be his breaking point.  “That’s a bloody awful waste of rum, Swan.”

One dark eyebrow arches at him, her sea green eyes dancing with impishness.  “You’re just saying that because you’ve never had egg nog.”

He sniffs loudly.  “A pirate’s life gives little opportunity to indulge in the drinking of fresh cow’s milk, Swan.”

"So dramatic." Rolling her eyes, she ladles out a cupful of the pale liquid, sloshing a few drops onto the counter top as she does so.  “Oops.”

Belatedly, he notices the pink in her cheeks, and feels a grin stretch his lips.  “Have you perhaps been testing your own concoction, love?”

She smirks, then runs her tongue along the swell of her bottom lip.  His traitorous blood immediately rushes to his groin, his mouth almost watering with the anticipation of tasting his rum on her kiss.  “Gotta do quality control before you release the product, mate.”  She drags out the last word, clicking her tongue on the ‘t’ in an unspoken challenge of old, and he takes the cup from her hand, downing its contents in one gulp.

_Bloody hell._

He does so hate it when she’s right.

She’s looking at him expectantly, almost shyly, and he feels a wave of tenderness squeeze his chest.  “Well?”

“I stand corrected.”  Her eyes light up, and he can no longer resist the urge to take her mouth in a sweet, rum-tinged kiss.  She winds her arms around his neck, slanting her mouth over his as she kisses him back, her soft sigh warming his whole body.  “But don’t think,” he gasps when he finally lifts his head, his mouth still tingling from her kiss, “that you now have free reign over my grog stash, because a man’s rum is a sacred-”

Rolling her eyes a second time, she presses her mouth to his. He can almost taste the unspoken _God, will you just shut up_ in her kiss along with the rum, and he doesn’t mind in the least.

~*~


End file.
